


Burn

by CinnamonCountess



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst and Porn, Atletico de Madrid, Bathroom Sex, Bi-Curiosity, Careers Have Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Euro 2016, Fluff and Angst, Football | Soccer, France National Team, Frottage, Ice lots of ice!, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loss of Powers, M/M, Male Slash, Secret Crush, Self-Esteem Issues, and tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonCountess/pseuds/CinnamonCountess
Summary: No glory, no trophy, no title - again. After two big game losses in a short amount of time, Antoine dwindles down and shuts himself off everyone as he questions his capability to endure any more defeats. One friend he secretly yearns for arrives timely to help him cope and continue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pure slash story with a bit of explicit porn at the end. It has been lingering in my writing archive since summer but with all kinds of different circumstances arising this year I really didn't manage to finish and upload this little piece of writing. As it deals with Antoine coping with the loss of France in Euro 2016 it obviously contains angst and references self-harm. I simply wanted to state that in case it might trigger you! 
> 
> On another sidenote: I'm not an English native - in case you're here to collect typos, they're free for you to grab and take away! (Or you might want to volunteer as a Beta? I wouldn't mind.) I promise to occasionally check the stories I write on grave orthographic errors.  
> Now, enough chit chat. Have an enjoyable read!

Football can be both - magnificent, amusing, marvelous and all kind of positive terms you can imagine and feel with your entire body. But it can also be cruel, severe and piteous. Lights turning off, leaving you in seizable darkness. That’s what inevitably happens as soon as you’d be confronted with a carving defeat. Proceeding so far as to reach a tournament’s final with your team, but losing briefly before touching the silver gleaming trophy. With the colorful nationality ribbons dangling all cheerfully from the handles. Possibly the worst scenario a footballer could imagine, but also a notorious companion. Unfortunately being knocked down at the last step is _incredibly_ harder to take than being thrown off earlier in any competition. Basically having to cope with the mere fact that the Euro Cup title slipped through your fingers by a few millimeters. Well, in actuality one lucky goal. 

 

_No_ , Antoine knew very well it wasn’t _lucky_. To be fair, this time their opponents played really good, tactically. Pretty much the whole time Portugal had to fight against France without their super star Cristiano Ronaldo. They were at a disadvantage to begin with. But his team couldn’t use it for the better, himself included. All the chances they created - countless of them - reached the fruitless end. His nation lost. No use in wondering ‚what if’. The red, blue, white colors slowly fading away from the stadium stands. Antoine tried to be deaf towards the cheers and cries of joy reaching his sensitive ears from the Portuguese crowd and team. The grass seemed to yield underneath his boots, trying to absorb him into the deep ground. A place where he’d ultimately have time and peace to rethink everything without anyone judging. His naked calves shivered as a few moths circled around him. But he didn’t pay any attention to them, just like he tried to during the match. 

 

_But why us?_ We fought so hard to be here. Even harder than years before.

 

Antoine’s eyes felt completely dried out. What a waste of energy. Faintheartedly he trotted past his teammates who either laid on the ground, hands covering their faces or tried to console each other whilst bawling out loudly. Instead of letting his feelings dwell up, Antoine felt hollow and wasn’t able to shed a single tear himself.

 

Why us… He kept on wondering, the thoughts painfully knocking against the bones of his head as he looked up to the highest stands in front of him. A few groups of France supporters still remained there, hugging and comforting each, people eagerly and shakingly pressed against others, while watching the players do the same on the ground below. A sudden image of all these faithful Rojiblanco fans who remained still after the ultimate blow of the whistle at UCL final just a few weeks ago flashed through his mind and clouded his view for a moment. The great wave of silence and disappointment reflecting in the fans teary eyes. „TUS VALORES NOS HACEN CREER“written on a large banner hanging over the stands until the end. It still hung lonely when everyone already left.

We shouldn’t stop believing in our values and strength, because _they_ do believe in us no matter what. But what is worth continuing to believe if you keep on getting knocked down? What’s worth all the work? How can you find the high spirit and willpower after all? Another sudden cold rushed over his skin as he sat down on a box and examined the silver medal. All his reluctance engraved in a jewelry. Without giving it a second look he put it into a black bag, which he would later dispose somewhere down in his trunk. After a while he finally stood up and followed his teammates like a shadow down to the changing room. No words exchanged, not even angry curses. Deadly and almost tangible silence floated upon the team. Quickly showering and changing into casual attire, Antoine just wanted to get out of this jinxed stadium. More than ever he desperately longed for alone time in his hotel room. Pogba would probably go out later on and vent with his other teammates anyway. Or he’d at least realize Antoine wasn’t in the mood of having tons of people around him. A rare scene, but in moments like this quite usual for him. Antoine never felt like a person to scream out his frustration, but instead tried to backpedal and reflect everything reasonably. Only in rare situations he succumbed to spur-of-the-moment anger reactions.  Normally though he’d look for a way he could’ve avoided mistakes in the first place. A way he could’ve succeeded with the chances given to him, peeling down the troubles to the core and overanalyzing every scenario. On his way out he shook a few hands while being mentally absent. Someone grabbed and dragged him towards an interview, leaving him no chance for resistance. They quickly released him, noticing his tired and devastated appearance. He wasn’t able to answer most of the questions, anyway. And the questions were gibing as always, not really helpful. Why would they believe it’s a good idea to interview a losing team right-away? 

In his hotel room he quickly laid down and scrolled through some twitter and instagram tags more or less unwillingly as he wasn’t really keen on seeing what others wrote about him. At least a few of his Atleti friends thought of him and kept their fingers crossed.

In addition a few Whatsapp messages reached him, Cholo, Saul, Filipe and he almost smiled tiredly at Koke trying to joke a little, his way of cheering him up. This time it didn’t work. His disappointment increased a little as Fernando apparently hasn’t thought of him at all. Well, Fernando _freaking_ Torres - the glamorous Atleti child - has grown into an all-time busy man. In his freetime his thoughts would always be with his wife and kids - family before everything. Furthermore they were in pre-season preparations currently and Fernando would surely be working his ass off to keep up with them, physically and mentally. No time or patient nerves for _petit_ Antoine’s worries. Antoine put aside his phone and curled into a fetal position, eventually finding a way to sleep.

* * *

„Griez, do you wanna stay in here alone, again?“

„Yeah.“

„Really? We’re going to a concert and afterwards maybe hanging a little in that night club from yesterday. Lots of good music, nice girls,…“, Paul insisted and looked down at Antoine with concern as he was still lying in his bed without moving a toe. Just like he did the last two days. Whenever Pogba asked him to join the team on a night out, having a little sidetrack from what happened at the Stade de France, he threw another excuse at him to avoid accompanying the team. 

„No, thanks. Next time maybe.“

„You said that the last times I asked you.", Paul murmured and scratched his chin pensively, "But okay. Y’know I do think it might get better if you hang a little with us.“Antoine could hear a slight flash of concern, mixed with eagerness in his roommates voice. Pogba leaned forward and gave Antoine’s shoulder a friendly push with his fist. 

„Sorry mate, but I really don’t feel like throwing a party lately.“, Antoine retorted without looking at Paul and curled up underneath his blanket like a fragile toddler.

„Alright then. Well, hopefully you’ll feel better soon.“

Paul shook his head but left it at that, leaving the room and Antoine was relieved that he didn’t push further.

 

There was a golden figure enthroned on his nightstand. Antoine eyed it up with a little reluctance. His Golden Boot. After all he felt like not deserving any kind of awards for the weak perfomances he displayed, even though objectively one might judge them to be outstanding. According to his opinion these individual achievements and prices would only mean anything major to you as a player if you're a true self-seeker. With that he grabbed the trophy and threw it against the cupboard, where it landed with a cracking noise. The golden shoe didn't break anything, neither did it take any damage. Antoine sighed in frustration and burried his weary face behind his palms. 

* * *

Hours had passed and fortunately Paul did seem to take his statement seriously, he let him rest alone for a while. 

Deeply absorbed in a half-asleep state Antoine barely recognized the muffled sound pervading the surroundings of the room. 

 _„Bonjour.“_ , a familiar voice suddenly greeted in a thick spanish accent.

„Fer, wha-“, Antoine gasped and almost fell off his bed as just now he'd realize someone entered his apartment. Fernando stood straightened up just in front of his bed, arms interlaced, slightly chuckling at his shocked reaction.

Antoine needed to recollect himself from the shock and it took him a while to close his mouth at the surprising visitor making his way into the room unnoticed.

„ _What are you doing here?_ “, he inquired loudly, but his voice cracked a little. 

„Well, a sly bird whispered to me that our little child urgently needs to be cheered up.“

_Child?_

Antoine raised an eyebrow at that. Hold off that sarcastic and lofty attitude, Fernando _‚El Nino’_ Torres, he thought grimly. Antoine ploddingly dragged himself up from the edge of the bed, but immediately turned away from Fernando. „Arriving here out of nowhere is surely a kind gesture, but a simple message would have sufficed, y'know.“, the frenchman couldn’t withhold an upset overtone accompanying his voice. And in all honesty he didn’t want his Atleti teammate to see his unfamiliar physical level of distress right now.

„You didn’t respond to any of my messages from today. And after all that happened yesterday…", he muttered and let his gaze wander around, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, his golden hair gently showering over his forehead when they finally made eye contact. "Frankly I just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.“

Antoine closed his eyes and he could suddenly feel his heart beat pounding up to his throat.

„As you might've noticed I’m still breathing and talking.“ Fernando said nothing, but Antoine could feel a shift on the mattress as he must’ve sit down on the other side of the bed.

Neither said anything for what felt like hours, a tension arising that could haven been cut through with a knife. Their steady breathing was the only sound percolating the room and it seemed dubious as to where this awkward situation would lead.

Eventually Antoine turned around with a sigh to have a better sight at Fernando, who solidly gave him a pensive stare.

„It’s just, I can’t cope with any more losses.“, Antoine admitted almost meekly. „We’ve worked so hard for this, we worked our balls off. The whole team wanted this, especially now that we had the chance to win this tournament in our own country. It’s such a shame, _it’s unfair_ …“, Antoine paused and tried to bit back the salty fluid almost dwelling out of the corners of his eyes. Why would he even weigh himself down to the last person who deserved to hear complaints like this? Especially after Fernando had been dropped from his own national team so unmercifully.

„ _Mon dieu_ , I’m sorry, I shouldn’t whine about this.“, he added and didn’t dare to look at Fernando while saying this. Gosh, how stupid, he reproached himself mentally. „Don’t worry about it.“, Fernando made repelling gesture with his hand as if to chase away an annoying fly, „Go on, _Anto_.“ His skin tingled a little at the unfamiliar sensation of Fernando using the shortened version of his name. He swiftly composed himself, because in times like this his reactions seemed too silly. „It’s just - two lost tournaments in a row, I _fucking_ hate that so _fucking_ much.“ "Wow, there.", Fernando replied and raised an eyebrow at the exceptional flood of swearing words leaving Antoine’s mouth. He surely wasn’t used to that, as Antoine rarely let his temper slip through on the pitch.

„It was an unlucky match for France today, you’ve created lots of chances. Sadly, a lot of times in football not the better teams wins.“ 

„I know. Still, I feel so worthless right now. I could’ve turned it around, I know it.“

„ _Worthless_? Alright listen carefully and don’t be stupid. You’re statistically among the top scorers and players of La Liga last season. France would’ve pulled out the white flag  _way earlier_ without your effort and input in several fierce situations - for instance the goals you’ve scored against Germany. Furthermore you’re featured in the UEFA Euro XI, you were selected as Man of the Match multiple times throughout the tournament and you’ve also won the Golden Boot, as a top scorer and best player. _Don’t fucking belittle yourself, Antoine!_ “, Fernando suddely bawled at him angrily. Antoine immediately looked down awkwardly, failing to articulate a proper counter response. Luckily the tension vanished quickly. „Speaking of Golden Boot", Fernando added and his temper filled voice turned softly again, "I’m especially delighted and pleased to have you as a successor on that one.“

Antoine glanced up to suddenly meet a proud smile looming on Fernando’s freckled face. He almost gave in to a slight smile himself as seeing the Madrileno happy like that always had some tingly responsive effects on him. And yes, of course he was proud to shoulder this legacy.

„Yeah, I’m glad about that too…but..“

„No ‚buts‘ _monsieur_! Be glad about what you’ve achieved. And of course be proud to carry on my legacy.“, Thereupon Antoine leaned forward gave him a hard slap on that theatrical bullshit, which Fernando laughed off lightly before continuing. „You should never take these individual accomplishments for granted. And in regards of your team, you know, Spain didn’t win Euro or world Cup in a day or two. It actually took us several years of hard work to grow together as a competitive and suitable national team! We had to fight against odds, we were beaten out in the group stage in Euro 2004 by Portugal…and in World Cup 2006-“

„When France beat you folks 3:0 in the quarterfinal.“, Antoine gushed with a mockingly dreamy stare.

„ _Yeah, thanks._ Let’s not dig too deep into that.“, Fernando responded a little more grumpy

„Anyway, after that our team felt fervent and craved for nothing more than the title! But it’s not all about willpower. Spain never achieved anything proximately great in international football for about 40 years, but suddenly we felt like _we could do it_! We grew together, we’ve been beaten, but we’ve also acquired lots of expertise as to how to improve. Ultimately we found our own style of play and were able to surprise other teams and channel the game masterfully.“

„That’s when you became my idol.“, Antoine whispered and threw an almost wistful glance at Fernando, who didn’t seem to catch up on that. Firstly he intended to add: ‚And I got a similar haircut to yours back then‘ but left it at that as he wouldn’t want to creep out Fernando completely with his boyhood obsession.

„Well, lots of the goal achievements were made by _El Guaje_ , who’s by far one of the greatest and astonishing teammates I’ve ever played with.“ Antoine could feel a little stab of jealousy in his chest at Fernando suddenly looking up at the ceiling, probably with a vision of David Villa in front of him.

„What I meant to say is: It takes time. Team progress can take years of practice and figuring out the best strategy. But your team is already one of the most promising of the future, you’ll reach and grab the title, I’m sure of it. Spain could do it and France will do it as well! And you are definitely the most amazing player in Europe tonight!“

Now Antoine couldn’t help but smile a little wider, he felt so unbelievably grateful for these words coming out of Fernando Torres’ mouth. And they actually encouraged and against his initial expectations, cheered him up. Even though he felt his cheeks turning wet as tears were streaming down on both his cheeks. He didn’t even realize he was crying for a while now.

Though Fernando at first looked at him with a worried expression, he gradually gave him an encouraging stare and reached towards him to pat his shoulders fondly. But Fernando took away his hand far too quickly for Antoine’s taste. The frenchman wished the touch would’ve lasted a little longer and maybe wandered towards his back, enclosing and embracing him fully to the others body warmth. After two days of exclusion he suddenly craved for someone to comfort him physically and tenderly. No. Not someone. Just a very special _Madrileno_. 

Maybe a simple question would suffice? 

Antoine sparsely wiped away his tears, his eyes still red and wet. „Uhm, _Fer_ …“, he never called Fernando by his shortened name. A lump seemed to build in his throat, as he didn’t know whether the Madrileno would protest or make fun of that. Gladly he didn’t, but threw him a quizzical glance. 

„Would you mind, uhm, y’know, not that I’d need it desperately or anything-“

„ _Spit it out, Antoine_.“

„Alright, would you …could you give me a...a... hug?“

„A _hug_?“, Fernando asked, initially a bit confused at his query. Afterwards however he opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. „If that’s all you want, come here, get some love.“ He smirked which made Antoine blush then roll his eyes, but he immediately moved himself into Fernando’s firm arms and snugged against the spaniards well-defined chest. A scent of peppermint and chocolate penetrated his nostrils as he secretly absorbed Fernando’s odor. 

„Thanks, bro.“, Antoine murmured, enjoying the closeness and warmth of his teammate, slowly wrapping his arms around the taller ones waist, pressing against him tightly. Fernando's smooth heartbeat immediately did a thriving job on soothing his discomposure.

„No, you’re welcome.“

There was a pause and Antoine felt Fernando shift a little, but not too much as if he didn’t want to disturb him. Time passed and at some point Antoine felt a slight touch roaming over the flow of his spine, but Fernando didn’t dare to intensify it. He was rather cautious, which made Antoine even more yearning for his devotion.

„Actually, I expected Pogba to be your snuggle bunny.“

„We cuddled a few times, _it was great_.“, Antoine grabbed on the joke and could hear Fernando snort above him, raising his eyebrows until they vanished under the base of his blonde hair.

„Good for you, _mon petit_.“, Fernando laughed a bit and casually kept on running his hand through Antoine’s short but very fluffy hair.

„When did you learn to speak French, by the way?“, Antoine struggled up to his knees to look directly at Fernando, his face barely a breath away from his.

„Every so often I caught up on a certain frenchman jabbering peculiar things in his sleep while we were sharing a room on team travels.“

„ _Y-you did?_ “, Antoine sunk back and buried his flushed face into Fernando’s broad torso.

„Nothing too indecent I hope.“, he murmured against the spaniard’s chest and could feel his cheeks getting hotter at the thought of Fernando hearing about the content of some of his - uh, _rather explicit_ dreams involving him.

„Well, you had a very intense conversation with Patrick Star about rock buildings, ice cream and jellyfish. And you giggled like a dork. A bit terrifying to be honest.“

„Asshat.“, Antoine grabbed behind him and threw a pillow hard against Fernando’s face, which made him jump, groan and cackle out loudly. In response he reached for Antoine’s arm and pulled him closer. While doing so Antoine’s sweater pulled up a little, exposing a bit of his skin.

 

At that Antoine could hear Fernando sharply soak in the air and thereupon he blinked for a second in confusion.

 

„What is _this_?“, Fernando pointed towards the bit of visible skin on Antoine’s arm, next to his tattoos. He just noticed now how the skin had formed some firey red spots, a few of them looking rather nasty.

„I…uh…nothing. I showered a little too feverishly it seems.“, Antoine whispered and suddenly felt a rush of pain at that realization floating all over his body. He was in deep thought and didn’t turn up the temperature purposefully. Until now he hadn't actually noticed how bad it was, but Fernando quickly noticed the fatality of these burning red bruises.

„ _Dios_ , Anto, let me see.“, Fernando immediately grabbed him up and examined the frenchman’s body, his forehead wrinkled in sorrow. He didn’t know why, but not only the burnt hotness of his skin sent shivers towards Antoine’s belly now that Fernando softly touched his harmed skin. What a peculiar reaction in this situation.

„Only an ice bath will help you with that.“, Fernando finally stated matter of factly.

„Yeah, ice bath, cool…cool _it_ down.“, Antoine murmured and his cheeks flushed, making him squint at the sudden realization of what he actually _meant_ the ice would help against.

Fernando raised an eyebrow, but managed kept a straight face and didn’t jump on the suggestion.

„Let’s get undressed I’ll go and fetch you some ice cubs.“, Fernando winked at him, Antoine nodded a bit shaky. Was that an attempt to flirt or was he being generally mischievous with him? Nah, what a dumb idea, he would never consciously _tease_ him like that. Except he just did.  

* * *

 

Fernando returned after a while, cautiously carrying a box full of ice cubs.

Who knows where he got them in such a short amount of time. Antoine could’ve made a bet that Fernando sneaked into the hotel restaurant kitchen and did steal them from the refrigerator while no one was paying attention. Sometimes he was more sneaky in his actions than his innocent, freckled face made him look like.  

„That was a rather successful quest it seems.“, Antoine laughed and oddly enough felt a little uncomfortable standing in front of Fernando Torres in the bathroom, merely dressed in his pants. Even though they’ve seen each other naked a lot of times, undressing and showering in the locker room after training sessions and all that, this was somehow different. He just opened himself towards his teammate and therefore felt slightly more exposed than ever. 

„It’s worse than I thought it was.“, Fernando stepped closer to Antoine and continued to examine his burning injuries. „No, it’s not!“, Antoine replied instantly and backed away as Fernando tried to touch him. Suddenly his face turned red as a beet for no apparent reason. „ _Sure._ ", Fernando sighed sarcastically and Antoine answered by sticking out his tongue while pointlessly attempting to cover his wounds, "Let’s get it done then.“, Fernando said and threw the ice cubs into the bathtub, filled it with cold water and afterwards gave Antoine an inviting glance. Hesitantly he responded to the request and slowly let himself sink into the ice cold water. His skin immediately began to shiver, but the effect made an impact at once. "Way better.", Antoine whispered gleefully. The pain seemed to diminish. Meanwhile Fernando didn’t leave the room, but followed Antoine’s movements attentively. Afterwards he let himself sink against the wall of the bathtube, staying close to him. „You’re quite a handful.“, he murmured and Antoine barely heard it. „What do you mean?“

Silence, followed by a quiet sigh. „Sometimes…Well, sometimes it’s quite hard for me to assess you and that’s a bit stressful.“ His voice became quieter and it almost felt like he didn’t want to share his train of thoughts. „I could say the same about you.“, Antoine replied and moved a little upwards to have a better glance at Fernando until he realised that their faces would be only a few centimetres apart. Wet strands of hair cutting through his sight. 

Fernando blinked in confusion and Antoine realized an unexpected change in his friend's bodily reaction. Suddenly the pupils of his mate turned pitch black and grew, reflecting Antoine's astonished face. His lips starting to part a little and subconsciously they both started to close the distance between them until they realized their bodies started to move on their own and Antoine quickly backed away, letting his confused glance sink down awkwardly. „Uhm, you know my personality doesn’t have a simple paradigm, I’m difficult to understand.“ He could hear Fernando chuckle slightly in response. 

„Oh, I know _that_ by now. I'm not blind. On the other hand I’m also fond of challenges. Be aware that I don’t give up easily.“ With that he leaned forward and placed his hand under Antoine’s chin to lift up his glance and ran his thumb over his bottom lip. Antoine’s eyelids began to flutter as he witnessed Fernando licking his lips seductively before closing the distance between them again. They looked into each others eyes intensively and never dared to blink. 

„Did you really think I didn’t notice your gazes and…“, he smirked and brushed against Antoine’s lips ever so slightly. Antoine felt like a bomb of butterflies bursted inside his chest while Fernando turned his head gently kiss the side of his neck. It felt likea warm liquor slowly ran over his skin, getting soaked deep inside and continuing to run down his spine and belly from where Fernando touched him with his mouth. „And…?“, Antoine wheezed and slowly threw his head back so Fernando would be able to kiss the frontside of his throat. 

„As I said I’m not blind. Clearly, it was tough for you to hide the swollen pain down your pelvis.“, Fernando whispered and Antoine gasped again in surprise, turning deep red and pushing Fernando closer by wrapping his arms around the taller man’s muscled torso. Almost pulling him into the bathtube. Fernando took advantage of the situation and pulled Antoine closer before sealing their lips. Gently and tenderly Fernando deepened the kiss and didn’t even try to oppress his longing moans, which only fanned the flames spreading through Antoine's inside. „If you only _knew_ …“, Antoine gasped between a quick break of gaining air in which Fernando continued kissing his chest and slowly made his way to one of Antoine’s nipples. Fernando traced the hem of his drenched underwear and rolled it off, without hesitation throwing it at some corner into the other side of the room.

„If you..only knew how much, how badly, _I wanted you_ , how often I thought of doing this with you. This…feels like a dream…“ Fernando finally stood up, got undressed but remained in his tight Nine Fitness boxer shorts and slowly lowered himself in the bath tube. Suddenly the water didn’t feel cold at all. Fernando took Antoine’s face in both hands and gave him a stern glance. „Antoine, I never thought of taking this step. But I do not regret it now. I just love to see you happy, as you are so much more worth than you believe yourself to be right now. And…“ Fernando let his hand move down Antoine’s boxers and found the hardened length, slowly starting to tease it with his fingertips, then slowly rubbing it up and down in his palm. „And…I’m actually enjoying myself right now.“ 

Antoine could clearly see it as the bulge in Fernando’s boxers began to grow and Antoine felt the urge to press himself against this huge staff. He could feel his inside heating up and his muscles starting to tense immensely as Fernando speed up on the rubbing. With every move up and down a strong wave of vibration glided over his body, almost sending him into a faint. Antoine parted his lips, desperately clawing into Fernando's muscled upper arms as he felt his moans becoming more rapid and louder. "I ...I ...tha-" he didn't manage to finish his sentence as he finally released the warm liquid over his shaft, still pulsing from the tension for several heartbeats. „ _Dieu est misécordieux!_ That…that was….“, Antoine looked Fernando into the eye and could see the clear arousal in his glance. 

Still breathing heavily and he could see Fernando starting to back away, pulling down his shorts and beginning to fumble at his own length. „No. Please, I…I should r-return the favor, please let me.“ Fernando paused and looked at Antoine in anticipation who tenderly moved forwards, touching his shapely corso and carefully lowered his head down Fernando's elongated hip. A bit clumsy he started to lick and caress the long, veiny and very hard shaft. His chin dunking into the cold water, as he rised to pace of sliding up and down. „ _Dios._ “, Fernando moaned and desperately pressed against the pressure of Antoine’s mouth until he fully closed his lips around the mighty length of his organ. Before he could reach his climax however, Fernando pulled Antoine up gazed at him through pure lashes. „I want to see your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes, Antoine.“, Fernando sighed and pulled Antoine closer, their bodies moving in passionate unisono, both their lengths touching each other. The overwhelming contact alone send warm shivers down their spines. The liquid still sticking at Antoine’s penis dappled down on Fernando’s swollen hardness as both of them fastened the rub against each other. Eventually Fernando closed his hand around both of their manhoods and gently pressed them together, rubbing up and down, which almost sent Antoine into another flyover. His pupils rolled back to the inside of his head and Fernando let his tongue slide into Antoine’s mouth in confident determination, until he couldn't contain his loud groans anymore and wincingly gave in to the climax. Both of them exhaled fiercely and tiredly squeezed against each other, water running down the muscled surfaces of their extremities. It took them a while to relax from this unexpectedly wild ride.

"I think...I better go down into that hotel and snitch away another bucket of ice cubes.", Fernando pointed whilst gently stroking Antoine's back, circling his burn marks carefully, as they noticed the water temperature happened to increase. Surely, it was difficult to guess the cause. Antoine blinked and embraced Fernando more firmly. "Would it be too much asking you to share another...another bath with me? For health purposes, obviously."

„Only if you finally accept that you’re a great player, independently from these particular circumstances. Forget about that loss, concentrate on the next games and always remember your qualities and what you've already achieved! But of course don’t turn into an annoying twat while you show your success to the world.“

„When will you stop mocking me for everything, _Fernando Torres_?“, Antoine asked and playfully pouted at him while he sprankled the water over his well-defined biceps.

„As soon as you won’t make that dumpish face again, you know, the one that you wore when you received your Golden Boot. Similar to the expression I showed off when I won the Boot in 2013’s Confed Cup. Just...don't copy me here. Never do that, this expression doesn't suit you.“, Fernando smirked and Antoine grabbed the taller one’s neck and pulled him in for a sweet peck on the lips. "I can't promise, your _bitch face_ is infectious.", he replied and poked at the spaniard's nose, before slowly stroking his edgy cheekbones. "My what is what?", Fernando blinked and at his bemused facial expression Antoine couldn't keep it together and snorted out loudly in response. "Nevermind."

"Anyway, thank you for coming and...and, y'know, for propping me up." "You're feeling better then?" "Very much so.", Antoine purred against Fernando's chest. "I'm glad about that and I'll promise you to stay in charge in case you'll ever need someone to rouse you again, _el cariño_." 


End file.
